


call it confident

by lockerroomgoon



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Job, Frottage, M/M, auston probably cops a feel too, basically auston is cocky and mitch is into it, but that's it, kind of public in that they make out in the locker room but that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16323206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockerroomgoon/pseuds/lockerroomgoon
Summary: Auston’s cocky, and cockiness is not usually something that Mitch is into. He thinks that’s probably just from messing around too much in juniors with boys who talked a big game but couldn’t back it up. Auston, though. Auston can back it up.





	call it confident

If Mitch had only one word to describe Auston, it would be cocky.

On the ice. In a bar. Playing video games. In the locker room. _Especially_ in the locker room.

Auston’s cocky, and cockiness is not usually something that Mitch is into. He thinks that’s probably just from messing around too much in juniors with boys who talked a big game but couldn’t back it up. Auston, though. Auston can back it up.

It’s why all the guys put up with him. If Auston wasn’t putting up goals and points like he is, there’s no way any of this would fly.

Auston _is_ putting up the goals and the points, though, so no one says a word when he crowds Mitch up against a wall in the shower post-game. It’s not like Mitch doesn’t want it – he wants it _constantly_. And it’s not like Auston ever does more than kissing and light groping. Still though, it’s probably not something anyone else could get away with.

No one says anything when Auston and Mitch come out of the showers, both clearly hard under the towels wrapped around their waists, Auston’s hand dipped just inside Mitch’s towel to rest on his ass.

Mitch always scrambles to get dressed, but Auston takes his time. He pulls his boxers on and sits down in his stall, a fucking king holding court as all of the guys stop in front of him before leaving to congratulate him again and again. His cock is thick and hard and obvious as fuck and no one says a word beyond “Good game, Matty.”

They leave when Auston’s ready – sometimes after all the guys have cleared out, sometimes before a few stragglers. Auston drives – even when they take Mitch’s car, Auston drives – and he keeps one hand high on Mitch’s thigh the whole way home.

The car ride is always quiet, but Mitch runs his mouth as soon as they get home.

“Fuck, Matty, those _goals_ ,” he groans, just as Auston pushes him up against the wall.

“I know, babe,” Auston says, so fucking smug, leaning in to nip at Mitch’s ear. “You gonna congratulate me?”

A shiver wracks through Mitch’s whole body before he nods, and Auston kisses him hard and dirty, pulling one of Mitch’s legs up around his hip so he can grind forward. The kiss doesn’t last long, though, Auston pulling away and pulling Mitch into the living room. Auston gets his suit jacket and shirt off and steps out of his pants and Mitch follows suit, throwing his own clothes a little more haphazardly in his haste. Mitch isn’t surprised when Auston sits down on the couch, and he knows by now that means his place is on his knees, between Auston’s thighs. He leans in immediately and mouths at Auston’s dick through his boxers. This is something he had to learn – Auston won’t pull his dick out straight away, he wants Mitch to _earn it_ first. Mitch takes his time here, breathing hot and wet over the fabric before getting his mouth all over it, making it as good as possible with this layer between them.

He knows he’s got it when Auston gets a hand in his hair and yanks him back. “You want it, Mitchy?”

He always asks, and Mitch knows it’s not out of politeness or anything like that. He asks because he wants Mitch to answer, because he likes it when Mitch begs for it. Mitch doesn’t care, he’ll spend his whole life fueling Auston’s ego if all of this is what it gets him.

“Yeah, Aus, please. Want it so bad,” he begs. Auston shoots him another cocksure grin as he lifts his hips off the couch to push his boxers halfway down his thighs. Mitch gets them off the rest of the way, practically tearing the fabric down Auston’s legs.

Mitch takes Auston so deep he gags on the first try, because Auston likes it when he’s eager for it. Auston doesn’t like to call him a slut or anything like that, but he definitely likes how easy Mitch is for him. Auston’s hips twitch up into Mitch’s mouth as he swallows around him, and it nearly sends Mitch into a coughing fit but he breathes through it. Auston doesn’t fuck his mouth, even though they both know Mitch would let him, and sometimes Mitch thinks it’s because Auston doesn’t want to do the work. It’s a blowjob, it’s Auston’s _reward_ , it’s not something Auston should have to put effort towards.

Auston does guide Mitch with a hand in his hair, though. He pulls him onto his dick, then pulls him back and traces Mitch’s lips with the sticky head as Mitch’s tongue lolls out of his mouth. He guides Mitch to suck on the head, then abruptly pulls him so deep he’s nearly choking on it. Mitch moans around Auston’s cock, and Auston groans, “Fuck, you love this. Fucking love choking on my dick, don’t you, Mitchy?”

He pulls Mitch back again so Mitch can answer, a breathless, throaty, “Yeah, Aus, fucking love it so much.”

Auston slaps his dick against Mitch’s cheek a few times, and it’s insanely, improbably hot. Auston can do this shit – can pull Mitch in until he’s choking, can slap Mitch with his dick – and he _knows_ Mitch will let him. Fuck, he knows _anyone_ would let him. Anyone with eyes. Anyone who knows shit about hockey. Anyone who’s spent more than five minutes with Auston.

The hand leaves Mitch’s hair, and Auston’s leaning back into the couch as he says, “Alright, Mitchy, make me come.”

Mitch doesn’t hesitate, right back to choking himself on Auston’s dick. He pulls back to mouth at the head, moaning as he glances up at Auston. He’s the picture of cockiness – posture easy and loose, hands folded behind his head, a lazy sort of grin as he watches Mitch get him off. Mitch goes even harder, tongue rubbing at the underside of Auston’s dick as he gets Auston in his throat. Auston groans loud when he comes, utterly uncaring of anyone who could hear him. Mitch pulls off slow and waits, on his knees, hard as fuck in his boxers, between Auston’s legs. There’s always a few moments where Auston just looks at him afterwards, no doubt pleased by how turned on Mitch gets just from sucking his cock.

“Okay, baby, you can ride my thigh if you want,” Auston says, like he’s giving Mitch a gift, doing Mitch a favor. It hits Mitch right in the gut, heat coiling as he hurries to straddle Auston’s thigh. He doesn’t even bother pulling his boxers down, but Auston slides his hand into the back of them to palm at his ass.

“Aus,” Mitch whines, and Auston just hums back. He doesn’t have to do much here, Mitch is already so fucking close that just a few pumps of his hips have him seeing stars and coming, his face tucked against Auston’s neck.

“Fuck, Aus,” Mitch gasps as he comes down. “ _Fuck_. Good game.”

Mitch doesn’t even have to look at Auston, he can hear the cocky smirk in his voice as he says, “I know, babe.”


End file.
